Oppressed Memories and Ambition's
by Unguided
Summary: In a world where science has gone rampant. Fundamentalist regimes are the majority and advanced technology and the non-belivers are persecuted. One civilization a testament to technological achievement and the only diplomatic country in this burning world is documented and studied in the form of non-fiction(in the universe)/fiction writing.
1. Setting the Stage

**A/N Hey there despite my last promises of keeping those FF's going that won't happen but this time it is something I believe in. On a side note you will see how I view a world (not this one) in which one country follows our path of technological achievement and dedication to such, whilst other country's government's believe in deity's and strict emphasis to fundamentalist idea's. I'm not trying to say science is the way as the to go although I am simply saying in this world, development of such has happened in one country and they are 'ridiculed' for it and have been victims of great atrocities from those countries who believe it's their deity's will. Now I want all religious people to understand me on this. A few hundred years ago the world rather believed that 'their' specific religion was the actual one to be worshipped and so wars spouted to 'cleanse the world of heretics' that is simply my moving of it to a more modern setting on a different world within the Civ franchise. I believe that if this type of fundamentalism and imperialism had stuck around there wouldn't be science as we know it but a more tortured and horrific version designed to oppress the enemy whilst instilling that these creatures were demons to bring judgement onto the non-believers and they wielded them as instruments. The kind of idea came from Time Rider's: Eternal War, where the American civil war never ended and we went down a different technological path (read it its interesting). So this is the result for many nations whilst still having access to (WW1 era weapons and below, minus aircraft and replace with floating ships and/or flying monsters, which I may add are sterilised something I might change in the future if I'm beginning to come to the end and want to continue I'll just start a new arc with that involved). I'll explain more if people are unhappy.**

"You refuse to surrender, yet we have the ability to conquer your civilisation a thousand times, our military now out numbers you 1000 to 1 and we have the infrastructure to field 10 tank battalions in a mere 2 weeks, I have no time for such nonsense. As now your nation teeters on the edge of history and shall be forgotten under our feet you refuse to end this bloody conflict for no gain and all loss. Such is the enigmatic ways of your society to proud to surrender yet to dumb to consider, what if. My nation alone treads the path of technological achievement whilst yours focused on purges of those not worthy of your eugenic system, a so called super race soon to be forgotten. Your captials fall won't be a great standoff where we lose the will to fight and lose the will to win. It wasn't your tactical essence that 'Forced' us to bypass your capital and conquer the rest of your land's, it was all planned. Too long have the racists of this world played a part in politics, too long have we aided others who have fallen victim to your ways. Now we have the ability to suppress a warmongering nation in one blow. For the 3.7 Million Esvians dead, I have become death, destroyer of worlds and in their name I shall have revenge!" roared Alexander Caldwell, his face red, veins sprouting from his neck and forehead each conveyed rage and sadistic glee. The crowd in the plaza had been deathly quiet hanging on his every word, that changed when their leader sprouted the last lines of his speech directed at his enemy's and his people. The crowed jeered and roared each one emphasizing a burning patriotism that had been suppressed for centuries under a burning fear of destruction.

The Esvians had become a taboo, a pus filled spot that represented everything wrong within a non-believers society. A nation had taken their call and struck, to clean this irritant of this planet for the name of their god yet their glory and honour bound affairs brought them to their knees and many nations watched as a supposed follower of the one slowly disintegrated under the power of sinners. Yet other countries revelled in their rival religions being twisted turned and contorted at the power of the devil. Now two years on the Esvians had advanced hundreds of miles not in the name of anyone except their dead. Alexander Caldwell slowly recovering from his adrenaline fuelled rage turned his back on the civilian's and walked through several corridors and security checkpoints in the building to reach his office. To give the command. To end a nation. Sitting on the leather seat, letting his muscle's relax he reached his telecom. "Did the world see it did they see the broadcast?" he questioned each word slowly dragging, edging with anticipation.

"Several agents have reported in, others haven't, that would be normal due to there being only a few satellites orbiting the planet and they have been given time's when they will be able to report in just before they were sent out into the field," responded the man over the intercom his voice steely and deep, a voice Alex couldn't help but be a little jealous of.

"I'm well aware of operating procedures for field agents but at least there's some good news," Alex inserted with a slightly berating tone to instil who was in charge, not that he needed to.

"If we could call it good new sir, permission to speak…"

"Freely, sir? Of course man we are a nation of prosperity and personal expression," interrupted Alex Caldwell, doing so in a proud commanding tone.

"If I may, what makes you sure this will work, I mean I was one of the few to see the tests and it something that wouldn't appear in even the worst nightmare's but I thought at the Execution of 100,000 they would have given up."

"I thought so too, sending the body of their largest creation, easily 30-40ft tall, and with more holes than brain cells, parading through their Capital before sending the terms of surrender, that should have convinced them but this time I am sure. Give Overcast the word it is time to split the atom."

~~[Request Received]

~~~~Accessing File##* Summer_Dawn_War~~Part 1{ Statistics

**The Summer Dawn War**

**The Esvian Democratic Commonwealth**

Military strength prior to hostilities:

205,842 Volunteer's

52,894 Part-time

78,522 Reserve

542 MBT's

823 LBT's APC's CV's etc

700 Helicopters of Varying roles

- 189 Designated as land attack helicopters.

- 126 Designated as naval assault helicopters

**60 Ship Fleet**

2 Designated Aircraft Carriers

55 Aircraft Each, 42 Combat Role

1 Super Dreadnought

4 Helicopter Carriers (25 Helicopters each)

13 Cruisers of varying classes

22 Support Ships of varying roles

7 Destroyers

11 Frigates

Around 45-60,000 Personnel

**Submersible Fleet**

11 Submarines of 3 Varying Classes

Around 200 Personnel

**Airforce**

892 Aircraft

Of which 289 are of the Strike role

Or offensive support

82 For Territorial Defence

**Space Assets**

1 Geostationary Space station 5 personnel stationed

4 Recon/Spy/Mapping satellites

* * *

**Hegemony of Rendaya**

Border flashpoints with Aloray's before conflict.

Military strength prior to hostilities:

758,791 Volunteers

122,578 Part-time

89,274 Reserves

Echelon's (MBT equivalent)

1722

Creature Calvary

15,000

1782 Echelon Terror's (Helicopter Equivalent)

254 Echelon Carriers

**242 Naval Ships**

42 Metalclad's of varying sizes and classes

138 Galleon's of varying sizes and classes

Around 200,000 personnel

20 Creature Oblivion's

**Airforce**

50 Balloon Galleons

200 Echelon Cloud Screamers

56 Creature Ravagers

146 Air Kraken


	2. Desert Storm

**A/N I hope this author's note won't account for around 50% of the word count this time. Anyway I have had this update planned for a while and well I have no set future for the story, unfortunately. There will be a swap of POV's but I will most likely keep it to one POV per chapter. Also reference to other events within the story ie The Massacre of 100,000 and The 1.5 Million may become one off chapters. Anyway here's with the next chapter. Entre Daniel.**

The desert wind was unforgiving; the sand worked its way into the crevices of boots, goggles, helmets and clothes; slowly advancing on the already irritated skin of Evil Platoon of the 23rd Guards Infantry. Daniel was lucky; he was wearing a Shemagh the light sanded breeze bounced off or embedded itself where there was no feeling; the cloth held a draw-back it reflected his warm and increasingly oxygen deprived breath back into his face and respiratory system. He let out a half-hearted sigh. His skin burned red and brown form the heat, turning from pasty white to a tanned brown. His full combat wear, the desert Khaki coloured uniform even fooled himself into thinking his lower body was part of the desert sands. The sand itself stretched tens of kilometres and housed the Capital the Hegemony of Rendaya. The sands Daniel trod on were dubbed Faint Valley by the military brass and the odd husk of tanks and several metre long ribs of Echelons littered the desert. An indicator of how little action was taken over an important stretch of land. The faint valley was so named for the combat scenarios meant to act as a delaying act against any outbreak of Rendayan forces into the surrounding bad-lands. Now his platoon was the only military asset within a few miles, their job, protect a camera crew.

Daniel trudged forward his inner fire slowly burning out, the propaganda slowly edging form his mind, to be distracted by a crackling in his ear.

'Evil Platoon we have reached the objective, let the camera crew set up, defensive positions men, no cock ups," the voice over the radio called out in a rustic dry tone, his platoon sergeant. The camera crew themselves felt unsure; perhaps as much as he did. Taking up his position he saw on the horizon the distorted view of Rangar. Each tall sandy grey building shimmered in the searing heat; something so big couldn't disappear in an instant could it? He found himself thinking the news casters own words. Her voice sounded from behind him, he felt like the camera was on him, as if he was central to something he couldn't see and react to.

Unfortunately it was on him, the TV presenter, having a tanned slightly burned skin, wearing shorts a t-shirt and a boonie hat along with a bulletproof vest. She had long forgotten to care about her appearance in such a time, stuck in a desert, 40 degrees c, it wasn't the best place to worry about make-up. She was a veteran of the war unlike him, so he accepted her presence sort of shrugging back into his combat wear.

"Now I'm going to speak to one of the newer recruits of this platoon," she turned to him; she squinted, reading his name badge, "Private Natario? How have you settled into the platoon and such conditions as these surrounding us?" Her voice was commanding and questioning, a shadow of her bright bubbly inexperienced self, with looks that made most of Daniels mate's horny, now she had changed from when she was first on the Tele Device.

Daniel couldn't help but chuckle, he'd have to refrain from telling of the antics, but that generally hid the nightmare's that happened at night, "Uhhh… yeah, it's been good, made a few friends and fought in a couple of skirmishes, so yeah."

"Interesting, I have spoken to some people who were veterans of earlier battles a few years ago, they spoke of being unable to sleep from their experiences, have you encountered any of those problems?" she inquired pointing the microphone back into his face.

He recoiled slightly, he heard stories and the cry's in the night from his comrades. His CO had spoken to him, told him it was natural, the cries of 'nightstalker', 'echelon' and 'creepers' were in place of silence at night. He was lucky not to have fought in any battles that had involved any of them. Although he was unlucky as he was the victim of the Rendayan's adaption to Esvian battle tactics, he wanted to keep what was a well-known personal secret of each man in his platoon to themselves, "No, I haven't, I highly doubt that this Is even relevant to what's about to happen. Were about to finish this war once and for all!"

"Yet aren't you scared if this doesn't end the war, what if they just become stronger and we've added fuel to their fire?" the reporter countered she shifted her stance seemingly readying herself for what was to come next.

Daniel hesitated, was it a trap? She was reporter, exposing the truth yet he felt the state wouldn't want that? He countered with what he could scrabble from his propaganda tortured mind, "Even if they still stand they couldn't stand against us, we shall wipe them out one way another!" He felt slightly stupid just reciting what his CO had said, was she expecting it?

"Well there you go people, our troops are ready and unquestioning in their resolve to defeat the enemy!" The reporter ended abruptly turning to face the camera full on, placing herself at the centre of attention. Daniel turned back to his position facing back onto the horizon of buildings.

"We are but a few minutes away from our enemies' destruction, we shall stay live for the next few minutes."

XXXXX

_15 Minutes Earlier_

"Checking flaps!" A light rain pattered around the hull of the aircraft in a droning fashion.

"Flaps good," an engineer called through his headset raising his hand to signal an all good. "Check weapon triggers."

"Copy that, checking," affirmed the pilot, "Freedman that's your check," he said gesturing back.

"Copy," she primed the weapons to safe and pressed the trigger, the computer let out a whine to warn the officer that the trigger was safe, "Weapons are green, flaps are green, engines green, were good to head out," she puffed over the intercom her breathing occasionally interrupting the flow of speech.

"I affirm, all systems clear were good to go." The pilot agreed pressing a few buttons receiving a beep in confirmation, "Watchtower this is Overcast 1-1 we're ready to take off, requesting clearance onto runway?"

"Copy that 1-1, Runway is clear, looks like you've got the red carpet," reply a bored voice that was grating to the ears as it was coupled with the static from the radio.

"Affirmative, Runway clear, heading 55 degrees north," there was a slight turn the pilot looked at Freedman, "Ready Freeman?"

The question was more of a statement, he knew how she felt and he expected no less from her eager reply, "Born and raised sir, let's see them go boom."

The pilot smiled inwardly tuning back to his control's, the runway was slightly damp, the tarmac smelt to those unfortunate enough to be outside; damp and warm tarmac was something most had hated yet had gotten used to. Base personnel had gathered at a safe distance from the runway to wave off the fighter, Freedman gave a thumbs to a group of soldiers stationed at the base, earning a cheer and a few air punches. She grinned, she was to make history, she didn't really expect the plan to work, she hadn't seen what the bomb –that was attached undercarriage of the jet- could do yet the CO was sure it would work, so she wasn't fazed too much.

There was a shudder, the aircraft had begun to lift off from the ground, the nose turned up and the jets whined propelling it into the air. The jet began to shudder even more, the air was dense and the weather front was moving away from the base and drop sight however that meant they had to fight the winds to travel to their waypoint.

"Watchtower, Overcast, were clear and proceeding to waypoint Alpha, were going to break above the cloud layer."

"Overcast, Watchtower, copy that we will lose visual but we have you on radar, the weather front will be clear in 3, good luck,"

"Copy that Watchtower, Overcast out," the pilot changed his com to a local setting, "3 minutes until waypoint alpha then another 5 until bravo, takes us out of range of the enemy AA until we hit the city."

"Copy that, White, let's get this done."

XXXXX

_Present_

"Evil, this is Overcast, were delivery boy on this run two minutes out," a female voice full of eagerness called out over radio static.

"Copy that Overcast, hope you don't miss," the quip earned a light hearted chuckle among the boots on the ground. When truly they envied the flyboys, sitting 30,000ft in the air, cool and relatively safe from the danger that was on the ground and the heat, Daniel had lowered his Shemagh, tired of recycled air, not that this air would be any better.

Another burst from the reporter blared from behind Daniel, she was now focused on the city on the horizon, the little glowing specks of an early night, the glowed bright, as if hope was still there, sadness crept over Daniel, it seemed like the vids from the Rendayan incursion which turned from that to full blown war. The town of Herleston disappeared of the face of the earth, but the casualties didn't, nor did the story's it chilled his nerves. Yet it was the time for revenge and he was ready for the results. There was a rumble from above the skies parted revealing the Jetstream of Overcast, the glowing lights on the horizon superficially gave birth to lethal streams of lead that arced over the horizon in a deathly light show. Something shot from underneath Overcast who was now perpendicular to the city, or so his Daniels depth of field made him think.

"Evil this is Overcast, bomb dropped, bomb dropped, impact in 30 seconds were off,"

"Copy that Overcast. Not staying for the light show?"

"No we have to pull back to a safe distance." There was a light mutter of, "For what we are about to see."

"Affirmative, Evil lax position's, loose defensive position, formation line," ordered the steely rustic voice of his platoon Sargent.

Daniel and the private next to him didn't move they were the line, Daniel simply held out his right arm at 90 degrees from his body whilst the private did the same with his left and they both shouted in unison 'on me'. The line had formed in a matter of seconds each man staring at the lights. Then the world exploded, and a feeling of vertigo washed over Daniel, the future was black.

**A/N Teehee. I have the next chapter planed hopefully a quicker release.**


	3. Dreams or Nightmares

**AN: Well this is the third chapter, something I wanted to explore the depths of the mind and how it is affected by the mere sound of an Echelon, more specifically the Nightstalker, SPOILERS! Hehe sorry, it is also meant to explore a little of the Rendayan culture albeit most likely a small part.**

_The darkness it crept closer, the muffled footsteps taunting at the ear, forcing instincts into decisions: here; there; everywhere. It laughed at the mortality of man, its clumsiness in silence, its physical weakness, its need to breed a killer than become one. Yet blackness was all he could see, no wait! Was it a dark blue? One that emanated hopelessness and fears that were unquenchable until one of two deaths happened. Or was it to taunt merely reveal a presence then to have it disappear? To trap and force terror into the bravest of men, yet he wasn't brave, he was young, a boy, he stood where men should. Yet the men had all but died, no not died transformed, became husk's incapable of emotion, for that raw feeling would overwhelm them, paralyze them, then they would be useless, left at the feet of their family, incapable of thoughts, just memories of friends, family, dead and adrenaline, pure ecstasy, their first intimate moment, now they would only remember. Yet Daniel remembered, he saw his friends and family… running? It wasn't until the heavy weight in his hands came to his attention, his rifle, his sword, his shield. They were running in fear, crying stumbling gesturing him forward to save them. He did his duty. Running, shooting into the shadows, yet each member of family each friend got fainter, they faded out, he picked up the pace, his mind screamed it was not right yet his loyalty's lay ahead of him and they were being extinguished. They had all faded except for one that remained bright and strong, his sister. Her cries were taunting, scratching at his mind as she fell into his arms, her auburn hair fell over his arms, he felt the warm texture of fluttering proteins (hair) spread over his arms, her tears spread from his lower waste to his crotch, he pulled her close, ignoring the screams and gunfire that came from around him, it was a rain of depression that encroached on his embrace. She pulled away from him; her cries turned into a grin; her eyes laughed at his humanity; she pulled up the cold metal of his pistol to his face. He could see the interior of the barrel, the metal of the bullet glared at him, polished for its purpose, yet the pistols handle now faced him, she was holding the barrel, the trigger to him, he took the pistol, unsure a child in a game that they could not understand. Its purpose tortured him; her face ripped itself apart; the tendons snapped; the cheek bones split and the skull mutated. Her skin now a hard black that glossed the bits of gore that remained of her were etched into crevices on the body, hairs bristled in anticipation, readying the kill, airways snorted, the holes that were airways reverberated a screech that perforated the ear. _

Daniel awoke. The gun metal in his right hand was at his hip, the face that had once been his sisters was a mere foot away from him, both were equal in speed the pistols tip touched the bottom of the skull behind the mandible as the first spike entered Daniels skin around his cheek. The head exploded showering a dirty concoction of exo-skeleton, brain matter and blood over the desert sand and Daniel.

He had killed his sister! No it wasn't his sister, it was a Nightstalker. It was dead, he was not, was this a dream as much as it was a nightmare?

"Natario, get up now WE ARE LEAVING!" shouted his platoon sergeant grabbing his arm, hauling him and handing him his rifle. Sheathing his pistol he fumbled his rifle into a firing position, shooting of 2 bullets at a Nightstalker advancing on a private. The private yelled a 'thanks' as he threw a grenade at the shocked Nighstalker. Another down. The whole platoon was running the camera man and reporter in the middle, some-how keeping pace.

"Evil 1-1 this is Thunder 5-2, Gunship support inbound, need you to lase targets over," Sounded off a Gunship Weapons Officer.

"Negative, if we halt retreat were all screwed, using smoke to designate targets in pursuit," quipped the PS, "Manning drop smoke, everyone double time it!" he ordered.

The platoon left all discipline behind and went into overload, muscles screamed and breaths became more ragged in oxygen deprived bursts. The boots dug into the sand increasing effort output as they forced themselves through the sand.

"Uhh copy that Evil, confirm that you're heading west away from the smoke," quizzed the weapons officer

"That's us Thunder, fire on everything else," shouted the PS down his radio.

"Copy, guns, guns," responded the weapons officer in an almost bored tone, the gunships immediately let loose a roaring field of death. The Nightstalkers kept running whilst the newly joined Rendayan infantry began to falter as their comrades extremities showered them in a gory goo of mush. In a matter of 10 seconds it was all over an extra 25 dead nightstalkers and around 30 dead infantrymen as well as many injured. Evil platoon looked upon the scene it was grizzly and left many with devilish grins as Thunder open fired on the injured, adhering to no protocol as the cries of delusional men were drowned out with increased rocket and gun fire.

The slow roaring of an engine was heard from behind the dune, Evil turned to face the bottom of the dune, and there, next to a rocky outcrop were 3 Huna Armoured Transport, the infantryman's dream, if air conditioned.

Which unfortunately wasn't the case for Evil platoon, there was a rancid smell of sweat which stood stagnant no longer lost in the desert air. The driver of the Huna, a small woman with a look to kill chucked a bottle of deodorant in the back. The men took the bottle chuckling to themselves, started to spray the can.

"Hey Danny, what was it like? Y'now getting up close and personal with a Nightstalker?" asked a fellow private who didn't look at all bothered by the events that transpired.

Looking at the private, who Daniel barely knew and answered, "I dreamt about it, whilst unconscious, then woke up to find the thing at my face," why did he call him Danny? He hadn't asked them to or known them long enough to consider them friends.

"Well I see your reaction was normal then."

"Wh… what do you mean, normal?"

"Ya pissed yerself mate," smiled the private pointing to Daniels crotch, letting out a sigh Daniel looked down, there was a large wet patch that spread down to the centre of his thighs.

Before Daniel could reply the private quipped again, "Hey Manning chuck us the deodorant,"

Manning a private who was wearing a balaclava and glasses under his goggles chucked the deodorant, to the private. Daniel could see the sigh emanate from Manning's dark blue eye's. The private caught the can and began to spray lazily into Daniels crotch area.

Raising the can the pvt said, "I'd rather not have that smell mixed in with what's already here."

"Damn right, if I smell that you're humping it back to base," came a response from the driver's seat as if to confirm everyone's thoughts, although Daniel wouldn't mind being left alone.

The rest of the journey was mixed with idle chat from within the sticky humid coffin of the Huna. The long journey had sent many men asleep, whilst others were forced to stay awake. Daniels rifle stood between his legs the metal no longer burning hot or a much needed cold but sticky and warm. The spine of the gun as well as the main rail was facing towards his opposite, the private that had sprayed deodorant into his crotch.

"Your lucky," the random piece of chat came out of nowhere for a tired Daniel yet he played along.

"How?"

"You survived your first encounter, the others will stay away from you, focus on someone else."

"What," yawn, "do you mean?"

"The nighstalkers, you took your first they'll realise that focus on someone knew," the private pointed a sort of accusing finger at Daniel before it formed into an open hand. Daniel took the hand and shook. "Yet they won't go, for some reason they don't seem scary once you kill them, but that's in the desert, you got off lightly."

"What makes you say that, I mean, they always look the same," stated an intrigued Daniel. Now playing with his gun swapping it from hand to hand as the barrel rested on the floor.

The private rolled up his left sleeve revealing an arm that had been savaged, yet the wound wasn't recent, scar tissue clung pretending to replace the true skin. "I was off duty edges of Esvian territory just came back from 4 weeks of fighting, we were stationed at a village, hit it off with a local girl," both the men snickered slightly, "Anyway I was invited to theirs for dinner, everything went as normal, me and her went down to a stream in the moonlight, all the romantic shit. We heard a crash back at the house and a scream. So me being the big tough guy ran up and drew my side arm, me and her entered the house. I knew something wasn't right, the lights were off and the place stank." Then there was a cringe, "They started moving the Nightstalkers, these ones were an earlier version, they had soft skulls and mandibles and were about chest height and unbelievably agile making them hell to fight off. Gha the noises they made were terrible, they tore apart the corpses while we advanced bone on bone and skin tore, then they pounced, I got off a couple shots, killed one scared another off then I got swarmed I saw one jump at her and stuck out my arm, I took the bite. The wretched thing wouldn't get off, I had shot it but its jaw's had locked tight and already savaged most of my forearm. Two others got brave and sliced at my side, I put another two bullets into them. She was still behind my holding my right arm in place I was weak. Then my squad turned up cleared them out. I had fainted, then awoke at a field hospital."

"Damn, that must have been…," Daniel received a glance from the private that he had to be careful what he said next, "Breaking, terrifying, that's what they're for right? I mean house to house and stuff."

"Exactly, you got an easy kill so they won't focus on you for a kill…"

"But they're dead the ones that saw me they can't tell their…buddies not to attack me," Daniel interrupted.

"I thought that too but its too common occurance, and tell me why did the veterans of them survive the attack whilst we lost a platoon worth of NS virgins," countered the Private.

"I… I don't know, so I had the easy part, compared to others of course, but how…"

"It's in the body language and the eyes of the soldier that they know who to and who not to attack,"

"But you're not a sociologist or psychiatrist are you," stated Daniel becoming slightly frustrated.

"Of course not im in the infantry, but look at these men, they're different they have no interests outside of this except from sports, keeping fit, women and the occasional joke. It's easy to see that they have thunk too much don't and don't want to form any sort of normal life. The nightstalkers pick up on this," answered the private taking great pride in the little snippet of information that he had gathered.

"Look I'd rather not speak about this but, what about you and the girl," questioned Daniel who had pondered on this for a few minutes.

"We still keep in touch, so I think that's what makes me slightly different, I have access to the outside world, I speak to her sometimes keeps me sane. You'll need to find someone to speak to otherwise you'll over think," concluded the private nodding his head. "Oh name's Theran by the way."

"First name? That's odd well I've never heard of it."

"So is Daniel, you of foreign descent?

"Oh the Htrelyka Peninsula, yeah my elder (Grandpa etc) fled here during the purge's, said it was a sinful place yet he was grateful for the shelter." Answered Daniel remembering when he first asked about his descent.

"The tribes! Damn lucky he made it out I heard they're still killing each other," stated a surprised Theran.

"Yeah its slowed down I think it's just the occasional fire fight, they're close to being unified again,"

There was a rattle and a whining of the breaks and a sudden jolt. Several men woke up shaking their heads groggily and waking up their friends.

"Ramp Down," was called out from the front of the vehicle and the ramp in the troop compartment came down and the troops moved from the vehicle. As one of the last to leave the vehicle Daniel turned around to check the compartment. There was a single unmoving figure in the corner. Daniel approached letting his gun hang from its sling.

"Hey wake up," Daniel shook him, there was no response. Daniel nudged the soldier whose head lolled to the side facing towards Daniels feet. There was a dark tint to the right side of the man's face which contrasted the natural white skin. Out of instinct Daniel checked the man's pulse, there was an extremely faint beat.

"Medic, get a medic here now!" shouted Daniel, he was immediately joined by the female driver who checked his pulse.

"Crap get him outside now," she ordered, Daniel picked him up in a fireman's lift and made his way outside.

Two more medic's ran over and immediately set to work ripping the clothing that followed the path of the black dead skin. The driver pulled Daniel away and said, "There's a stretcher in the troop compartment, let's get it and him inside,"

"Yes mam," replied Daniel he made his way to the entrance of the troop compartment. He reached under the seat and found a compact stretcher, pulling the tubing and cloth apart making it full-sized he ran it over to the two medics. "Get him on the stretcher move him inside," spouted Daniel quickly placing the stretcher next to the soldier. The driver and the two medics hefted the man onto the stretcher, Daniel took one end and the Driver took the other.

"Freyun, get the Huna back to the depot, I've got to get him inside," she shouted to her co-pilot who gave a quick salute and made his way back inside the vehicle, the engine gave a roar and moved slowly around the corner.

As the driver and Daniel ran the soldier inside the medics took place either side of the stretcher trying to figure out what was going on. As the soldier was placed on the bed a nurse ran over and checked his pulse again and shook her head. "He's gone," she murmured closing his eye's

XXXXXX

"_So we place the refugee camps on the border and it stops the others from invading?" __**Alexander Caldwell**_

"_Yes they have a strong moral code which they follow, which is both a blessing and a curse, they want to vanquish us from the planet yet they can't harm the one to be converted."__** Unus Reyorta, Head of Foreign Citizen Management and Refugee Location Administration**_

"_So say's their lore but can't they just send priests and missionary's to convert them against us," __**Alexander Caldwell**_

"_They would but the Grenadarme's and Secret Police keep a watch on every member of the camps and we turn away any border traffic that heads towards them. And as long as we keep the refugee's in poverty yet keep them alive they'll remain neutral keeping our borders secure."__**Unus Reyorta**_

"_Negating an attack on our flanks using them as shields." __**Alexander Caldwell**_

**A/N Well there we go, late update and all. I'm not sure if there are any artists who read this but anyone can and I hope will get involved in a little experiment, for the front cover of this I want it to be the Esvian Flag (Imagine it whatever way you want multiple entrys per person allowed) and anyone can take part, link it to me or talk to me via pm.**

**I would also like some reviews from visitors as it helps me do better in updates and people who don't have an account you can still review as it helps me a lot. So there you go chapter 3.**


End file.
